


Gluttony

by jxkuzure



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Force-Feeding, M/M, Necrophilia, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxkuzure/pseuds/jxkuzure
Summary: Do not waste what's put on your plate.





	Gluttony

"Gluttony"

* * *

 

 

 

The soft tapping noise of rain on the window dripped throughout the estate. Overturned furniture, broken glass, and blood caked the walls and hardwood floor. The rain mourned. The house bellowed with gasps and pitiful moans of desperation. Blood pooled underneath him as his hands feebly tried to keep his intestines from rushing out. His glasses, cracked and smeared with his own hemoglobin, clutched in his other hand as some memento in case the police couldn’t find his body. His body threatened to cease existing.  So much blood had been poured fruitfully from his carcass that made death eminent in the matter of hours. Yet, he was still breathing if not crawling to his impending doom. Will didn’t regret alot of things in his life but, he loathed the choice he had made. He wished he never knew of Freddie Lounds or her  _ master _ plan to finally  _ catch _ the tiger by his toe. The tiger didn’t holler or get caught by his toe. Instead, the tiger embedded his canines deep into their flesh, ripping and tearing muscle from bone, and devouring them whole.

 

Will had sensed something was awry the moment he barged into Hannibal’s  _ lair _ . Many times Will had been invited and dined within Hannibal’s home and never once did he imagine it as his final resting place. The sensational art and design of the place  pleased his aesthetic and lured him into false security. When he was entangled within, the tiger held Abigail by her throat and his long, metal claw ripped her throat open as Will could only weep in anguish. She slumped to the floor like a bag of meat. Her baby blues that Will found himself drowning in at one time became dull and fish-like. The tiger only stood there with his metallic claw as Will raised his own weapon. No words were needed between them. A mutual distrust and loss only lingered in the empty space of Hannibal’s living room. At one point, Will could admit he  _ loved _ Hannibal. He enjoyed the psychiatrist’s subtle points or casual cues. As they would wine and dine, Will found himself allured to Hannibal’s attraction. He  _ understood _ . He never chastised or hindered Will’s polluted mindspace with pseudoscience or mock sincerity. 

 

With Hannibal, it felt  _ natural  _ to be what he was.

 

Will didn’t feel the claw plunge into his guts or the way Hannibal held him as his knees buckled and he was pulled to the ground. He heard Hannibal’s soft murmurs and felt kisses to his face but, all that made him feel was torn from him. Abigail was cold and lifeless on the floor nearby and it sucked every living fiber of his being out of him. That was  _ their _ daughter. Hannibal would kill the very thing that made them family. A true family. Will rolled his head back as Hannibal lowered him down to the floor. His now bloodied back stained the hardwood floor as Hannibal loomed over him mournfully. Oh how Will wished he’d been dressed better for such a mournful event. His glasses had cracked near the bottom but, that was alright. He wouldn’t need them for much longer. The profiler’s eyes watched as Hannibal disappeared into the darkness of his lair. His feet still thumped softly as Will listened. His chest felt like it was caving within itself as blood bubbled up his throat. Eventually, he would drown in the very thing that pumped life into his veins.

 

Far down the hallway did Will hear Hannibal’s frustrated grunts and sighs as the sick, wet sound of something being  _ bashed _ in echoed. 

 

_ That must’ve been Jack _ , Will concluded, as it was only him left.

 

Hannibal had came back after a while with his entire pants leg drenched in brain and fluids. All his hairs that normally was slicked to perfection was drenched and wild atop his head. His shirt had been discarded and only his bare, chiseled chest was soaked in gore. He had took notice of Will’s condition. The profiler was alive and somewhat breathing. His hands were trying to keep whatever guts was trying to burst out like silly string. Hannibal smiled sweetly at him and said something in his native tongue. He proceeded to bend down and grab Abigail by her legs. He dragged her lifeless corpse across the living room floor and towards his open kitchen. Will only watched in silence. He didn’t dare imagine what Hannibal had devised in his sick, demented head because they shared two of a kind.

 

The shrill cry of a familiar voice came from the foyer. Will heard the frantic clicks of heels being beaten into the hardwood floor as he only shut his eyes and  _ pretended _ that he’d finally expired. His entire body screamed at him to warn and deter anyone from entering the pit of despair yet no words escaped his lips. Blood trickled from the sides of his mouth as the clicking noises grew closer and closer. 

 

_ Alana _ , Will wanted to scream out,  _ go away, go far away! _

 

The words fell cripple in his throat. Alana must’ve witnessed the blood and guts galore and was going to turn away but, the tiger had already captured her in his bloody paws. She kicked and screamed as Hannibal only held her. His sorrowful eyes only looked at Will as he dragged her to the door of his basement. He threw open the door with his free hand as Alana tried to utilize her body to break free of his grip. A failed attempt as Hannibal practically  _ threw _ Alana down the steps. She was much smaller and frail compared to Hannibal’s aged strength. She couldn’t do anything as her yelp would never be erased from Will’s mind.

 

_ Like a wounded dog crying from the abuse _ .

 

The sickening thuds of her body tumbling down the steps strained tears from Will’s eyes. The silence except for the rain filled the house once again. He could feel Hannibal’s lingering presence over him as the psychiatrist glided his hands across his beady flesh. He squeezed his eyes even tighter as Hannibal kept speaking his foreign tongue.

 

“Before you leave the table, you must clear your plate.”, Will happened to understand as Hannibal reverted to English.

 

Hannibal returned to kitchen soon after. Will began to wonder if Jack ever placed the call to the Bureau or law enforcement. No sirens blared nearby or helicopters buzz in the sky like cicadas at night. The hope of anyone storming the castle diminished like a lit candle as time seemed to drag its feet. Hot oil bubbling and the familiar clicking noise of a gas stove being prompted to heat made Will’s stomach churn. 

 

_ How could Hannibal gorge himself on the same people who ate at his table? _

 

Horrified by the thought that Hannibal had been  _ fattening _ them on the same flesh as their own, Will forced his entire body to roll over. He landed on his stomach with a pained groan as his limbs began to stretch out and crawl. It took every ounce of vigor left in his broken body to pull himself across the carpet. He stopped midway through with a pitiful sob of pain. Hannibal had lurked out of his bloody workshop to admire Will. He only cooed phrases of encouragement as Will broke down in tears.

 

“Are you leaving so soon, William? The main course hasn’t been served?”, Hannibal sickly suggested as he caught Will’s legs and began to drag him.

 

Will hollered and cried for release as his arms flailed in front of him and his nails dug into the cherry floor. They left wrinkled streaks in their wake as Hannibal yanked him back with monstrous strength. He was lifted up by his waist and instinctively, Will bared teeth and dug in. Hannibal ony hissed in pain as Will’s canines only grazed his shoulder as he plopped him down at his dinner table. The psychiatrist obtained the tablecloth still draped on his cherished table and it became the bonds that secured Will to his seat. The profiler feebly kicked his tired legs as Hannibal stood back and admired his state. Black spots festered in his vision like black mold as Will’s head dropped to his lap. He could hear Abigail’s childish giggles behind him and he smiled weakly. He had done all he could. The tiger outsmarted the hunter. As Hannibal began singing, Will only exhaled and welcomed his fall.

 

_ As Icarus fell from heaven, his wings scorched and fell like black snow to the land below. _

  
  


* * *

 

Spooked awake, Will inhaled raspily. He heaved and bellowed like an old furnace being lit awake with hot flame. The same bleak surroundings told him that he hadn’t died or if so he did, this was  _ Hell _ . Hell would’ve been more welcoming than what Will awoken to. Past the dead flower arrangements, Jack’s smashed head was the centerpiece of the table. His eyes bugged out his head like pus-covered golf balls as his smashed jaw hung with cracked teeth. He looked beyond recognizable as Will vomited into his lap. When he tried to look away, his eyes caught the horrified image of Alana’s disemboweled corpse sitting next to him. Her once beautiful and angelic face was scrunched up in terror. Her intestines pooled in her lap like tired jump ropes. Will wept softly. His tearful eyes didn’t even want to imagine what Abigail looked like. She was sitting to his left but, seated as if she was an actual guest. Her head was down and her hands were placed in her lap. She looked  _ peaceful _ . 

 

Hannibal sat at the head of the table now washed and pampered. The remnants of blood, however, still was smeared on his face. His tongue had savoured the  _ meat _ of the kill. He devoured another slice then another till he noticed Will’s consciousness. He smiled gleefully as he raised from his side of the table.

 

There was only silence between them as Hannibal brought the plate he was dining from towards Will. The profiler shielded his face from the gore on the plate but, Hannibal cupped his hand to his chin and forced him to  _ see _ . Another wave of vomit pooled in Will’s throat as his mouth was forced open. The flesh soon filled his orifice and the vomit came to combat it. Hannibal clasped his hand to Will’s mouth and another held the back of his head. Will buckled and seized as the combination of vomit and human flesh over encumbered his reflex. Regardless, it slid down his throat. Again and again, Hannibal forced morsel after morsel till Will was left frozen to his confines. Bits of flesh got caught between his teeth as Hannibal leaned in to land a soft, delicate kiss on the bridge of his nose.

 

“ _ You must finish your plate, William _ .”

 

He couldn’t take anymore. Hannibal kept forcing slice after slice of meat until blood was the only thing left pooling in the plate. After the last morsel had been swallowed came Hannibal’s own lips enclosed on Will’s. The kiss was sickening but, Will couldn’t protest. From lips came tongues and from tongues came fingers. Hannibal assaulted Will’s bloodied mouth with his digits till they were coated in saliva. That salvia became the panacea to Will’s insides as Hannibal unbound him and took him over the table. Sensation was lost as Will only focused on the smallest details of Hannibal’s face. The wrinkles, the dark spots, and the droplets of dried blood. He grinned softly and let his head roll back.

 

_ A main course to die for. _

 

* * *

 

 

  
Will awoke to a screaming start. The sound of glasses clattering to the ground and breaking made him jump. It was bright. He was surrounded by the endless towers of Hannibal’s bookcases in his office. He was a sweaty mess on the black chaise. Hannibal was more horrified by his sudden awake than Will as he was hastily picking up bits and pieces of broken porcelain. The profiler raised a hand to his parched throat and sighed.

 

Hannibal picked up most of the pieces and had them discarded away. He came back to Will with another glass of water as the profiler took it greedily and drank deep. He exhaled hard as Hannibal sat at the foot of the chaise.

 

“Did you have another nightmare, Will?”, the psychiatrist quizzed.

 

The profiler nodded as he finished the glass. Hannibal took it from him.

 

“I dreamed of us.”

 

The psychiatrist raised a brow in surprise and a smiled streaked across his face.

 

“I dreamed of you eating  _ us _ .”

 

Hannibal’s smile turned into a thin scowl as the profiler only gave him a blank stare in response. Silence hovered between them as Hannibal excused himself to finish cleaning the broken glass. Will laid back on the chaise and scrubbed his face with his hands. Though his mouth was watered, he still seemed to  _ salivate _ . His stomach growled in emptiness.

 

_ An unsettling craving had festered... _

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I wrote this in an hour and a half without my glasses on and being sleep-deprived.
> 
> [Read Kindred Here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12214434)
> 
> [Read A Floral Courtship Here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3846931)


End file.
